("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text -------------------------------------------------------- This work is copyrighted to the author © 2008. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration. -------------------------------------------------------- Raping Their Way Through Georgia by Old Bill (address withheld) *** A Union cavalry company decides to spend the night at a rural plantation and enjoy the women. (MM/f-teen, ped, 1st, nc, rp, v, sn, history) *** The colonel stepped down from his horse, brushed at his dusty trousers with his sweat-stained hat and mounted the steps to the wide front door. It had already been a long, hard day with a good bit of dying. He used the big, brass knocker and an old black man answered. "Grampa," he said with a smile, "summon your frigging master and then skedaddle. You're free. Tell the rest of them darkies down in the quarters." The white haired man nodded and then shuffled away. In a few minute a lean man appeared in a light-colored suit, white shirt and string tie. He stroked his whiskers and looked the officer up and down with disdain. "Sir," said the dignified man, "I'll ask you to get off my porch and stop those men pitching tents out in my cornfield." The colonel smiled, drew his long-barreled Colt, thumbed back the hammer, extended his arm and shot the white-bearded man squarely in the middle of his shrunken chest. He stumbled back a step or two and sat, looking astonished, then turned and collapsed in a growing puddle of blood. The colonel holstered his smoking weapon and smiled as a lean woman hurried down the stairs in a wide-skirted summer dress, her hair in disarray, her pale breasts almost flying free of her gown. "What's happened?" she cried. "Grandfather!" The colonel stepped forward, grabbed her wrist and pulled her out on the porch. "I assume you are the mistress of this house?" She nodded, too shocked to speak, weeping silently, chewing her lips. "As you can see my company is camping here tonight, and my officers and I will be staying in your home. Understand?" He shook her to get her attention. She nodded, looking from his grizzled face to the sprawled body in the front hall. She wiped her tear stained cheeks. "Get your people out here to take care of that body and then I want to meet the rest of your family in the front parlor." She shook her head and blinked at him. "You bastard," she said clearly. He backhanded her, bringing blood to her mouth. "Move, woman," he yelled. "Damned rebel bitch!" She stumbled back into her home, met with the elderly black man who had answered the door and then hurried up the wide staircase. A young man with a double-barreled shotgun passed her on the stairs, and the colonel smiled as he pulled his big pistol out, rested it on his forearm and shot the youngster in the belly just as he raised his weapon, a fine shot at twenty paces. The boy tumbled down the last three or four steps and fell atop the corpse, feet kicking. The colonel stepped up, turned him over with his foot, cocked his horse pistol, laughed at the choking plea for mercy and put a big .44 caliber slug right between the young man's blue eyes, blowing out the back of his skull. Then he smiled up at the horrified woman who had been watching from above, feeling his cock surge. Five minutes later with both bodies removed and all the slaves told they were now free; Colonel Mason met with the frightened family in their ornate parlor. There were four of them, all female, and all fair if not beautiful. The colonel smiled and silently made his choice of a bedmate, shifting his unlit cigar to the other side of his mouth, a half-empty bottle of rye whisky in his hand. "Sergeant, first sergeant!" he yelled. The big man appeared, stomped his feet, saluted and stood at ease. The colonel grabbed the woman he had met on the stairs, pulled her to him by her long hair and demanded, "Your name, bitch?" She was the oldest of the group, a lovely matron of perhaps thirty with a fine posture and proud air. "I'm Mrs. Henry Harris, sir, and these are my sisters and a cousin. If you are a real man, you will leave us alone." The colonel laughed. "Mrs. Harris evidently does not have a name, sergeant. You and the other sergeants, and your corporals if you have time, may use her until sundown and call her what you like. Then bring her back here in about an hour. We shall need a servant to serve our meal, to take care of the slop buckets, and I think she will do. I hope by then she will have learned some manners." He handed the man his bottle and smiled. "Sir," said the sergeant loudly and took the woman by the forearm and dragged her away, smiling broadly after drinking deeply, glad his officer was such an understanding gentleman, sorry it was so late in the day and that the officers were keeping all the young and pretty ones for themselves. He downed the whisky, tossed the bottle away, and scratched at his swelling groin as he twisted her arm up into the middle of her back and tore her dress open between her large, soft breasts, ignoring her sobs as he yanked at her corset. He licked his lips, eager to be in her white body. "You," the colonel said, pointing at the youngest girl, "what's your name; how old are you?" "What is he doing to Jane? I'm Misteria; I'm thirteen and you're a beast." The small girl stood, fists clenched, breasts bobbling in her light dress with its tiny waist and full skirt. Her hair was done in a mass of ringlets. "Misteria, that's a new one. Well, you are very pretty, and I am going to let you entertain my aide and the lieutenant over there. He's young too and his tool is right skinny." He waved at the two young officers near the pocket doors. One stepped out, his spurs jangling, and pulled the girl to him, bending her back and forcing his mouth to hers as he kneaded her buttocks with one hand and held her head with the other. She beat on him aimlessly, and he tossed her to the other young officer who quickly stripped her to the waist, a wide smile on his face. "Take her upstairs and find out which is her room. Bring her to me once you're both satisfied." The colonel smiled and licked his lips. "I will take my ease right here. Teach her to suck, if you have time." The two young officers hurried the girl out, ignoring her squeals, her toes barely touching the floor, her bodice hanging loosely from her tiny, waist-pinching stays. "What's your name, Reb?" he asked the ripe blonde cowering on the settee, mouth agape. "She's just a baby," the frightened young woman said, standing and lifting her chin proudly. "Your name?" the colonel demanded, lifting her chin. "Rebecca. I'm engaged. My, my betrothed is with General Bragg, and he will kill you all." "Is he now? And how old are you Miss Rebecca?" He grasped the locket hanging on her chest, yanked it free and put it in his pocket. "Seventeen if it is any of your business." She shuddered, putting her hand to her neck. "Captain Cochran," said the colonel sharply, "meet Rebecca. The cook fires won't be ready for an hour. Enjoy yourself. She's yours for the night, understand, if you want her, so don't wear her out too quickly. I'll likely want a piece of her ass later." He stepped up before the last girl, the luscious young redhead who sat cowering on the sofa, her eyes wet with tears, her light green dress baring most of her freckled chest. He lifted her chin and smiled into her hazel eyes. "Your name, honey?" he asked, feeling his cock surge. "Stand up," he ordered. "Rusty is what they call me, but my name is Ramona. Please don't hurt me." She bit at he lower lip and kept her hands linked behind her, thrusting out her young orbs. "Of course not, Rusty. I'd never do that. You are very pretty you know." He laughed as he took off his gun belt and unbuttoned his jacket. "I'll bet you do know, and we are going to get to know each other real well, yes sir." He unbuttoned his flies and flopped out his big cock which was purple and heavily veined, excited by the beauty of the women and the knowledge of what was to come. "You know what this is?" he asked, lifting his fat prick and bobbling it in his hand as if it were a five-pound salami. A gurgling scream came from above followed by some loud grunting and cries of pain. "Sounds like one of your sisters just became a woman," he said, his prick now fully hard and slapping into his calloused palm, its head the size, shape and color of a good-sized crabapple. She glanced at it, looked away and shook her head. Ramona was fifteen years old, a virgin who had ruptured her hymen on her favorite horse while jumping fences she had been told to avoid. She had enjoyed a number of eager suitors, kissed several but had no intention of marrying any of the boys she knew. No man had ever touched her breasts much less her privates. She used her beauty to get her way. "Poor Misteria. She's my cousin. Rebecca's my sister." She tried to move away from the man and the thing extended before him, the huge thing, the single-eyed thing oozing spit. It looked like a fence post. "This here," the colonel said, after yanking the girl back down on the settee and rubbing his fat cockhead on her pale cheek, "this here's a woman pleaser, a big one, little girl. Come on now, give it a kiss." She shook her head, tossing her unruly pile of auburn curls and clamping his lips together. Her heart was beating rapidly and there was a foul taste in her throat. The colonel reached down with both hands and grabbed the girl's dress at its puffy sleeves, turned the young woman over on her face and tore the light gown and petticoat from her lithe body. Then he ripped away her shift and silken pantaloons so that she lay before him naked except for her tiny corset and her pale stockings and stylish shoes. "By damn," said the colonel loudly, reaching down to slap the girls rounded ass gently, "you are a fine looking bitch, but I sure don't know why you're wearing stays." The girl rolled over showing just a knot of red hair between her legs, sat up, tossed back her rich mop of hair and thrust out her soft, round breasts. "I must, all proper ladies must. I can't go out without one. Let me go, you beast." She tried to shake free, arousing him even more. The colonel sat beside her, grasped one of her full breasts and pulled her to him, capturing her mouth with his, squeezing her breast and pinching out her rosebud nipple as his tongue explored her mouth. He pushed her down on her back, pulled one long leg up on the curve of the settee and lifted the other to his shoulder. Then he brought the head of his now rigid member to the girls pouting lips in their nest of reddish curls, slapped her twice to calm her down and set his ram at the tiny entrance of her pink sex. The girl begged him not to hurt her, not to rape her. Tears flowed down her freckled cheeks. "I'm a maiden," she cried. "Please don't, don't, don't!" He gritted his teeth, rose on his knees, held her buttocks with both hands and drove six or seven inches of his stiff shaft into her unsullied vagina. Rusty closed her eyes, arched her back and held back her scream of pain as she was torn open. The feeling was unimaginable to the youngster; it was as if something had exploded within her, tearing her apart. He backed off some, gritting his teeth, and did it again, and then again and yet again, bouncing her ripe body on the small sofa as he drove inch after thick inch into her, ripping her flesh, battering at her cervix and then butting into her womb. Above stairs in a frilly bedroom, Rebecca had her long legs wrapped about Captain Cochran's sturdy body as she writhed and heaved beneath him, her virginity long gone and her baser instincts now paramount. She felt her first climax mounting in her belly and encouraged her lover to more effort, grinding them together, wishing he were both bigger and stronger, more like the man who had first slept with, the man she intended to marry if he survived this foul war. Rebecca had known men for some time and expected pleasure not pain. She bucked and smacked the man's butt urged him to greater effort, to deeper penetration, increased speed. They both were sweating freely. In the next room, young Misteria was bent over the colonel's aide, who had both hands buried in her hair, and sucking his spent cock while a lean lieutenant was taking her from behind, his hands clamped to her hips as he drove himself upward and inward again and again, sobbing with pleasure. To the girl, it was a dream, a nightmare, unreal. Virginal blood and thick semen flowed down the inside of her thighs, and the room resounded from her slurping efforts and the smack of bare skin. Then she felt something warm explode within her as the battering continued. In the parlor Rusty couldn't believe what was happening to her as the filthy man with the cigar in his mouth reared above her and rammed his long, hard member in and out of her battered body again and again. He was grunting and sweating, twisting her tiny nipples and snorting for breath, and then he ejaculated in her, spewing out his come deep inside her for the second time, pulling free and then spurting again on her belly with a cry of relief. The colonel stood, strode to the sideboard and poured himself a few inches of brandy. He drank it off, looking at the redheaded girl sprawled half off the settee, his thick juices flowing down the inside of her rounded thighs, as young a cunt as he enjoyed on this campaign, and he had fucked a good number of girls and southern matrons. His glass in one hand, he pulled her back to a sitting position by yanking her hair and then forced her down to take his sticky penis in her soft mouth. "Suck, you bitch," he commanded, finishing his drink and tossing his glass aside. He held the girl's head with both hands and fucked her mouth as he hardened, enjoying the feel of her active tongue and moving her up and down on his thick shaft, feeling her teeth rake him. Rusty gagged and choked and sucked and then the foul man pulled her to the floor, turned her to face the sofa and knelt behind her, slapped her ass and rammed his prick back into her, lifting her knees from the floor. She screamed, sure he had ripped her body apart and feeling an almost electric tremor run through her. He smiled and grunted, ramming repeatedly, smacking her butt in time with his pleasurable penetrations, lifting the little sofa off its front legs. Upstairs, the colonel's stepson and aide was now mounted atop Rebecca, and the captain was watching the lieutenant find his enjoyment in young Misteria who he had up on her head and shoulders as he pounded downward into her rapidly until he came and let her fall to the blood-stained sheets. The captain then took his turn on the young girl, splaying out her legs painfully before rolling her to her side and entering her from behind. He grunted with pleasure and kneaded her young breasts as she gasped in pain. When he had satisfied himself on the writhing redhead and after forcing the girl to lick him clean, the colonel tossed her over his shoulder and took her up the stairs. He dumped the girl on the big bed where young Misteria lay moaning and sobbing, both hands between her legs. While the men shared a bottle and enjoyed the show, they forced the girls to lick and suck each other's cunny until they had recovered their strength. Some time later Jane Harris stumbled back toward her home as the sun was sinking and the sky turning red and purple. She was wearing her torn and stained shift and her feet were bare. Seven big men had used her frail body, used it violently and viciously, often two at the same time, forcing her to do things she had never thought of doing. Jane opened the kitchen cabinet and fumbled on the top shelf until she found the pistol her husband had given her on his last leave. She took the heavy thing down, unwrapped it and pulled back the hammer with both hands. It was a heavy LeMat and her husband said he had taken it from a dead Alabama cavalryman. He had showed her how it worked and made her fire a couple of rounds before reloading the weapon and placing it on the high shelf wrapped in an oiled cloth. Jane flicked down the small lever on the hammer as she mounted the stairs and just as she reached the landing the captain's aide and his friend, the young lieutenant, appeared, arm in arm, wearing satisfied smiles. She raised her weapon with both hands and as the muzzle came to the aide's belt buckle, pulled the trigger discharging the 16-gauge load of heavy buckshot. The two men at the top of the stairs were torn to shreds in a spray of blood, cloth and hair and tossed back to the wall, writhing and kicking, one blinded with his throat torn open and the other squealing, most his face gone. Jane stepped over the lieutenant's outstretched leg, flicked up the lever on the heavy pistol and opened the first bedroom door to find the Federal captain, now wearing just his shirt, pulling his rigid prick out of her redheaded sister who lay sprawled under him, big eyed, mouth gaping. Her first shot struck his outstretched arm, her second hit his ribs just below his heart and corkscrewed down into his guts and the third crushed his lower jaw, scattering bone and teeth. Rusty rolled off the other side of the bed, gasping for breath, eyes terror filled as her sister left the room and the man on the bed clawed at the sheets, blood pouring from his mouth. She took the water pitcher from the stand and battered the man's head until he was still and the pitcher in fragments. The colonel then appeared at the end of the hallway, naked, his sword in his hand, his cock full and hard. He had been busily sodomizing Rebecca, enjoying her pleas for mercy. He raised his blade and Jane fired, closed her eyes, extended the heavy pistol with both hands and fired again and again until the weapon was empty. Four of her five .40 caliber shots hit the colonel, two in his torso, one in his thigh and another shattering a hand. He fell on his side, crying out wordlessly. Jane dropped her empty weapon and walked down the hall, picked up the fallen officer's heavy sword and smiled down at him. "Hope you enjoyed yourself, you coward," she said as she swung at his face, opened his cheek and taking off half his nose and his left eye. The man screamed and rolled to his back, and Jane hacked at his groin until Rebecca came and restrained her. By then both women were spattered with his blood. "We must run, flee," the young woman said. "Get some clothes on. I'll help the other two." Within minutes the four women were out the back door and trotting through the empty slave quarters while behind them the sergeant was finding that all his officers were dead or dying. He raised the hue and cry, but by then it was dusk and no one wanted to go out exploring in the dark. The soldiers found the whisky supply and the wine cabinet, shared their treasure and set fire to the house, saving themselves the trouble of burying their dead. The fact that three of the four officers were badly wounded but not dead did not seem to bother them. Their screams merged with the fire's roar. END ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 58